even now, it is all for you
by EverSparrow
Summary: Draco will not be a follower any longer. TW for character death.


**A/N: Written for QLFC. Prompt: Kill Lucius Malfoy **

**Word Count: 1079**

It starts, as it ends, with Draco.

He doesn't know what to think, what he _should _think, when Potter and his friends save his life for the second time that night. It shakes something in him, snaps a tether in his very core.

After all that he has done, all that he has brought upon the boy, and still he chooses to be the hero. To save his life, although he knows he does not deserve it.

And there he stands, across the divide from his father and his mother and Lord Voldemort in the middle, and Potter is dead. He is _dead_, lying limp in that ridiculous oaf's arms, and suddenly everything feels too real. He had always known it would end up this way, with the savior of the wizarding world lying at the Dark Lord's feet, and yet, he somehow always hoped that it would never come to this. That he would finally be free from the bonds that tethered him to this darkness, that made him the enemy of all that is good.

Suddenly Voldemort is calling him closer, that sly smile on his face, and Draco feels sick. It has all come to this, he knows that now. All of his following and his servitude and his weakness and his strength. It is now that he has to make his decision.

"Draco!"

His name on the man's lips sends shudders through him, and he forces himself to raise his head.

"Draco. Come."

Voldemort extends a hand, and Draco stares at the bony white fingers, his face paling to the same shade. What stripped the good from this man? What twisted him into a monster so horrible that no one dares to even speak his name?

"Draco."

His name, again, but this time from a different voice, one that he has known his whole life. The one that has told him he would never be good enough, that he was a coward, that he was weak and therefore he was worthless.

His father extends his own hand, and this one is not like the Dark Lord's. Draco has learned to be afraid of these hands, too, but there is light in them, warmth in them. He remembers when they gently fixed the green Slytherin tie affixed to his robes, when they rested firmly on his shoulders, when they rocked him to sleep.

Isn't this where he belongs? With his father, who made him everything he is, who taught him what it means to be a man. Without him, without the Malfoy name and his ancestors looking down on him, he is nothing.

"Come."

He is running out of time, he is running out of hope, and he is frightened, truly frightened, for the first time in his life. And he does what he's always done, he runs away from what he does not know how to handle and begins to walk straight into the open arms of the awaiting darkness.

And then, inexplicably, it's his father that makes him stop, that makes the smile fall off of Voldemort's face.

"No."

He steps forward, and Draco takes in the dark circles beneath his eyes, his jutting cheekbones, the tremor in his voice, and he sees his fear echoed in his father's voice.

"What are you doing, _Lucius_?" Voldemort's voice is a hiss, a low growl, and for a moment, time stops, and Draco is frozen. What _is _he doing?

"I have not done much good in my life, Draco, but all that I have has been for you." Lucius turns to his son and steps toward him, and in his eyes, Draco sees the shame he feels in his heart. "I had wanted an heir but I received a son, and although you may not believe this, I loved you more than anything else in this world. You were the greatest thing I had ever done, and you were so _good_, so full of light."

"Step _back_, Lucius, or know that I will give you no mercy. This will be the last time that you cross me." Voldemort's face is contorted into a mask of rage, and Draco's head is fuzzy, and all he wants to do is run to his father but he cannot move, he cannot take even a single step.

Lucius does not step back, but forward, his eyes focused on his son.

"And know that even now, it is all for you, Draco. I have been so cruel to you, my son, and I regret it all. You are no coward, for a coward would not have fought for as long as you have." Lucius' eyes are filled with tears, and Draco finds his own vision blurred. "No, my son. You are brave, and it is time I was too."

Brave. It is with that word that Draco moves, that he finds himself running, and everything happens all at once.

His father gives him a nod, a smile, and raises his wand to the Dark Lord. Roaring, Draco tears forward towards him, even as Voldemort whips out his own wand, even as flashes of light tear through the corners of his vision.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _Two voices ring in unison, and Draco is nearly there, he's almost next to his father, almost close enough to stop it-

Then the smoke and the light and everything stops, and a body lies on the ground. A cry rings out against the silence, and Draco falls to his knees. Moments later, his mother is at his side, tears falling down her cheeks.

_Know that even now, it is all for you, Draco. _

It was all for him. All of it. And now he knows what he must do.

"I am truly sorry for your loss, but can't you see now that this attempt was foolish? It is impossible to kill me, not with all the strength I have gathered-"

Draco stands, and Voldemort is silenced, his eyes cold and calculating, analyzing Draco's next move. But this is no game, and Draco is tired of going second. It was all for him. All of it, but now it is all for Lucius.

It is all for his father.

And staring straight into the eyes of the Dark Lord, Draco raises his wand in the air and yells as loud as he can. This is how it ends, how it will always end. He will not be a follower anymore. It is time to be brave.

"_Avada_ _Kedavra_!"


End file.
